


long time coming

by SmoshArrowverseFan



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Killing Game Was A Virtual Reality Simulation (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoshArrowverseFan/pseuds/SmoshArrowverseFan
Summary: Tsumugi gets an unexpected visitor.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro & Shirogane Tsumugi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	long time coming

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so, this was a gift for tsumugimagines on tumblr for the danganronpa valentines day exchange. i hope it's alright, since i've never really written either of these two before. i had a ton of fun writing this, though :)

Tsumugi doesn’t expect visitors. She’s been awake for three days now, and since nobody’s come to see her by now, she’s pretty sure nobody will. She’s already been told that everyone save Kokichi has already woken up. And Kiibo, of course, since he’s just an AI designed specifically for the killing game, so there’s no physical body for him to wake up in.

Well. He’s not “just” an AI. After all, he’d had the conviction and free will to bring Danganronpa to an extremely unsatisfying end. Thinking about the blurred lines between fictional characters and real people is one thing, though, and adding artificial intelligence into the mix just makes her head hurt. So, Tsumugi files the thought away as something to think about some other time, when she’s less overwhelmed.

She thinks instead about her lack of visitors. It makes sense, of course, considering what she did. But, still. She knows that people like Miu or Tenko likely don’t have any desire to see her. Kaede, Rantaro, Shuichi, and Himiko were hurt personally by her actions, but they aren’t the type to take that out on her, so Tsumugi expected them to avoid her as well. Ryoma and Kirumi likely don’t care enough about her to visit, and Korekiyo… well. He definitely has a lot to work out, and that’s almost entirely her fault, so she doesn’t blame him for not visiting. Not that she’d want him to in the first place, really.

Angie is sort of a wild card, but Tsumugi expects that she has no strong desire to see her, and anyway, she’s likely avoiding her for Himiko’s sake. Gonta… Tsumugi feels a pang of guilt thinking about him. He had been one of her favorite characters to design and interact with. She knows him well enough to know that he likely wants nothing to do with her.

Still, she’s a little surprised Kaito hasn’t stormed in already to chew her out, or that she hasn’t woken up to Maki pressing a knife to her throat. She wouldn’t put it past them, honestly. Although, the nurses have informed her that Kaito’s physical condition is a little rough, so maybe he’s just not up to it. Maki, though… something about her absence doesn’t add up.

Tsumugi’s mind wanders, thinking of possible reasons Maki hasn’t shown up yet. She’s startled out of her thoughts by the door to her room swinging open with a drawn out creaking sound. Her eyes snap to the doorway, and her first thought is that Maki’s finally come to do her in, but she immediately dismisses that as preposterous, a possibility she’s only thinking of because the assassin was already on her mind. Her second, more realistic assumption, is that it’s one of the nurses coming to check up on her. Both guesses are wrong, though, as it’s Rantaro standing there instead, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh,” Tsumugi says. She’d placed Rantaro in the camp of those who wouldn’t come to visit her, so it’s surprising to see him now. He hovers in the doorway for a moment, before taking another step forward and pushing the door shut behind him. Tsumugi tilts her head. This is unexpected.

“Hello?” She says. Rantaro sighs. He sounds tired.

“Hi,” He leans against the wall, and Tsumugi is impressed at how casual he makes every action look. She used to think it was all of the jewelry and loose clothes that gave him that effortlessly chill image, but maybe Rantaro is just like that.

“Um… why are you here?” She asks. During the killing game, she would have added some disclaimer as to how plain she was, or how she was asking “plainly”, but there’s no reason for her to do that anymore. So she doesn’t.

Rantaro sighs again, shrugging nonchalantly. There’s that casual aura again, Tsumugi thinks. She feels a little bad for killing him off so early, since he could’ve been quite the mysterious heartthrob. Plus, with him being a returning player and all, he definitely has his dedicated fans. Tsumugi remembers weighing these options during the game. She remembers killing him anyway.

“I’m… not entirely sure,” He says finally. Tsumugi frowns.

“That’s strange,” She says bluntly. Rantaro frowns.

“Is it? For me, it’s pretty normal. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t know.”

Tsumugi frowns. “They haven’t returned your memories from season fifty two yet?”

Rantaro shakes his head. “Nope. I can’t tell if they plan to, either. It’s weird… I tried asking the nurses and staff, but nobody gave me a straight answer.”

Tsumugi hums thoughtfully. “That’s definitely strange… After previous seasons, the survivors were given their memories from prior games immediately upon waking up.”

“Yeah, that makes the most sense to me,” Rantaro shifts, seemingly weighing his options, before moving from the wall and taking a seat in the chair next to Tsumugi’s bed. She’s caught off guard by his proximity, even if they are still a few feet apart. She didn’t expect him to want to risk getting so close to her, not after she’d killed him. Still, she figures, there’s a clear difference between a killing game and real life. Maybe that’s put Rantaro at ease.

“...Tsumugi? Are you listening to me?” Rantaro waves a hand a few inches from Tsumugi’s face. She blinks.

“Oh, sorry. I tuned out for a second. What were you saying?”

Rantaro leans back. “I was just thinking out loud, really. It doesn’t matter.”

Tsumugi frowns. “Oh, well. Is there anything else you wanted, or was that all?” She’s not sure why she’s seemingly rushing him out the door. She’s been lonely with no visitors, after all, and he’s not trying to harm her like she’d imagined Maki would. Maybe it’s her guilt at killing Rantaro that’s driving her to push him away, but… no, that doesn’t seem right either. The guilt is there, but it’s not the reason. Tsumugi knows there’s a reason, but she can’t quite put her finger on it.

“There is, actually,” Rantaro smiles, but it’s guarded, Tsumugi notes. Typical of Rantaro. He was always sort of a stepford smiler from what she remembers.

“Oh?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you regret it,” Rantaro says, his smile dropping momentarily. Tsumugi frowns, unsure of how to answer, and Rantaro continues. “Sorry, that was vague. I mean… well, for one, do you regret killing me and letting Kaede get executed? And, for another… do you regret participating in the killing game in the first place?”

Tsumugi frowns. Rantaro’s gaze is firm and piercing, and she’s pretty sure it would make almost anyone squirm, but not her. She ponders his questions, turning them over in her mind, thinking about them from all different angles. She analyses herself, her own actions and morals, her emotions, as if she were an outsider. After a long stretch of silence, she meets Rantaro’s gaze again.

“Well… to put it plainly,” she says, “yes and no.”

Rantaro laughs drily. “That’s not plain at all.”

“Force of habit.”

He frowns. “Care to elaborate?”

Tsumugi grins humorlessly. “Gladly,” She considers her words carefully. “Well… it’s like this. During the game, I viewed all actions through the lens of fiction. So, seeing you all as fictional characters, my actions fully made sense. They weren’t immoral at all. Now, I don’t see you that way, and I feel bad, since I realize you’re… well, real. But I doubt I would have come to that realization without Shuichi, and I don’t think he would have had the right motivations to come to his own conclusion if things had played out differently. And, of course, if there were no Danganronpa, there would be no Shuichi. So, really… as much as I feel bad that I made you all suffer… I think that things had to play out the way they did, in the end.”

Rantaro shifts in his seat, carding a hand through his hair. “So… you’re saying Shuichi and the rest would’ve been fine with being written off as fictional if, say, Kaede had survived?”

Tsumugi frowns. “Well… he probably wouldn’t have been fine with it. But… Kaede’s death really pushed him forward. Kaito’s death served a similar purpose, to him and to Maki. The same way Tenko and Angie’s deaths pushed Himiko. That feeling of loss… that’s what was driving them, you know?” She says. She feels very strongly about this. She knows how Danganronpa works. While there are major overarching themes throughout the series, such as the hope vs despair dichotomy, and lies vs truth, two aspects they’d really leaned into with season fifty three, another major theme was loss. It was one of the biggest motivations for survivors. Almost all popular survivors had an extremely close relationship with someone who didn’t make it. It was practically a Danganronpa staple.

Rantaro sighs again. “Ah. I see.”

Tsumugi frowns. “You see what?”

“Tell me… What’s Kaede’s favorite color?”

She tilts her head curiously. “That’s… an odd question. It’s pink.”

Rantaro shakes his head with a bittersweet smile. “You’re wrong, Tsumugi. It’s navy blue.”

Tsumugi blanches. “I… what?”

“Kaede’s favorite color is navy blue. Angie was asking everyone the other day.”

Tsumugi fiddles with the corner of the blanket to ground herself, pointedly avoiding Rantaro’s steady gaze. “But… I… I remember writing that her favorite color was pink… I don’t understand…”

“Kirumi made Tenko tripe hot pot when she woke up. Tenko hated it.”

Tsumugi shakes her head. “No, no, that can’t be right, because… because Tenko loves tripe hot pot! I wrote that-”

Rantaro cuts her off. "See, that's the problem. You're saying you don't see us as characters, but you're still trying to view us through a fictional lens. As long as you do that, you're never gonna understand us. You'll never be able to come to terms with the things that happened in the killing game."

She goes quiet. “...Oh.”

That’s what bothers her about Rantaro being here. Or rather, staying when she expected him to go. She can’t predict his actions the way she would a fictional character. Because what he’s saying is true. She may have said that she doesn’t see them as fictional characters anymore, and she may have believed it, but she’s still thinking about them like they’re the words she put down on paper. And they’re not. She’s come to terms with that, at least.

“...I’m sorry. That was pretty blunt,” Rantaro smiles apologetically. Tsumugi sighs.

“No, I definitely deserved it. Honestly, I prefer when people are straightforward with me. It’s easier to understand them that way.”

Rantaro nods. “I feel that. Honestly, with how confusing things are, I wish more people would just… say what they mean, and tell the truth. There aren’t too many people doing that around here.”

Tsumugi laughs. “That’s Team Danganronpa for you.”

He leans forward slightly. “That reminds me… I did have one more thing to ask you.”

She frowns, curious. “Ask away, then.”

“Well, since you’re an employee of Team Danganronpa… I was wondering if you could tell me what you remember from the last season I was in?” He pauses. “Not if you’d get in trouble for it, though.”

Tsumugi considers this. “Well, nobody’s told me anything, so technically, I wouldn’t be breaking any rules… so, alright. What do you want to know?”

Rantaro frowns. “Well, first off… what was my original talent?”

She perks up. “Ooh, you were the Ultimate Adventurer!”

He smiles at that, his expression distant. “Oh… that does make sense.”

“Did they really not even tell you that?” Tsumugi asks. Rantaro shakes his head.

“Nope. Not sure why… Shuichi and Kaito have been helping me try to figure it out, but we haven’t really gotten anywhere. So, thanks.”

Tsumugi shrugs. “Well, it’s kind of the least I can do, considering I killed you and all.”

Rantaro laughs. “You say that so casually.”

She shrugs. “Well… of course I feel a little bad, but you’re fine now, aren’t you?”

“Sure, but… it’s the principle of the thing, you know?” He pauses. “Actually, that’s weird.”

“What is?”

Rantaro frowns, seemingly considering his words. “I mean… you knew we were going to be fine, right? Meaning, you’ve seen other casts come out of the game before.”

“I have,” Tsumugi says, unsure where he’s going with this.

“What do they do after they get out of here? What will we do?”

Tsumugi frowns. “Well… live normal lives, I suppose? Of course, you’ve all signed a contract with Team Danganronpa that allows them to call on you for interviews and fan events like conventions, of course. But… you’ll all be given a decent amount of money, with a bonus if you’re a survivor- that includes you, of course, since you didn’t get your bonus from last season- and you’ll just… be out in the world.”

“...Right. And… knowing all that, you… still didn’t consider us real people?” Rantaro asks. Tsumugi frowns.

“Well, I… hmm. That’s… odd.”

Rantaro shifts in his seat, leaning slightly closer to her. “What is?”

“When I start thinking about that too much, it just… gives me such a sharp headache!” She says, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opens them again, Rantaro is fixing her with an unreadable look.

“I get the same feeling when I think about my missing memories of season fifty two,” He says, his voice sounding slightly darker. Tsumugi frowns.

“That’s a strange coincidence,” She says. She’s not really sure why Rantaro brought that up. He nods, leaning back in the chair again.

“Right. Coincidence,” Rantaro pauses for a moment before turning back to face her. “Can I ask you one more question?”

Tsumugi smiles. “Go ahead.”

“You mentioned during the sixth trial that there were two survivors of season fifty two. I know I was one, but who was the other?”

Tsumugi opens her mouth to answer, and then closes it again. “I… don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No, I- I can’t remember.”

Rantaro looks like he’s trying to make sense of some mystery. “Well, let's go through what you can remember, then. Who were the other Ultimates, and how did they die? We can go in order.”

She takes a breath and grounds herself. “Well, there was… the Ultimate Florist, who killed the Ultimate Fortuneteller. The Ultimate Acrobat killed the Ultimate Rockstar. Then, the Ultimate Surgeon killed the Ultimate Analyst and the Ultimate Golfer. And then… the Ultimate Hero killed the Ultimate Archaeologist, which was a really hard hitting trial… those two were fan favorites. Then, the Ultimate Collector killed the Ultimate Breakdancer. The Mastermind, who was the Ultimate Philosopher, killed the Ultimate Gamer, which left the Ultimate Vigilante, yourself, and… and…”

Tsumugi knows she knows who the other survivor was. Still, the information is just out of her reach. She scowls.

Rantaro looks at her with a strange mixture of emotions she can’t decipher. Finally, he speaks.

“Tsumugi… something isn’t adding up.”

She glares. “Well… of course it isn’t! I can’t- I can’t remember! Why can’t I remember? I love Danganronpa, I don’t understand why I would- how I could just forget something as important as that!”

Rantaro frowns. “Well… It’d have to be someone else in this season, right? That’s how the rules work, after all.”

“You’re- you’re right. But I remember writing everyone’s backstories except for your’s, so… it just doesn’t make sense!”

“Well… have you considered that maybe it’s your memories that are off somehow?”

Tsumugi blanches. “My… what?”

Rantaro shrugs. “I mean, it’s pretty clear they’ve been messed with somehow. There are things missing from your memory the same as me. It’d explain Team Danganronpa’s behavior too, with them not giving me my memories back. Not to mention, there are huge inconsistencies in your core morality that don’t add up…. no offense. But they’re the same kind of inconsistencies you’d find in a fictional character.”

Tsumugi shakes her head. “No, no. You’re not- I don’t-”

“Tsumugi,” Rantaro says. She stops.

“...Yes?”

“I think you’re the second survivor of season fifty two to make it to season fifty three.”

Tsumugi stares. She knows that’s what he was building to, and even worse, she knows it makes sense. It makes things that hadn’t made sense previously make sense, too. And she hates it. Because if that’s true…

“So… I’m just as fictional as the rest of you.”

Rantaro frowns. “I guess you could look at it that way. But… you’re just as real as the rest of us, too. Listen… when Tenko realized she didn’t like tripe hot pot, do you know what she did?”

“What?”

Rantaro sighs. “She… she kind of lost it. She freaked out and locked herself in her room. She’s… she’s not the only one. You know, they made Himiko a couple inches shorter in the simulation?” Tsumugi didn’t know that, actually. She shakes her head.

“Well, they did. Apparently, she was really messed up about it early on, and it led to this huge downward spiral… not good stuff. And Kiyo, with his false memories… well, a lot of us have some messed up memories implanted, but he’s got it the worst, I think. There’s such a disparity between what you know is real and what you’ve experienced, right? It throws you off. It’s like… these bad things didn’t really happen, so why am I still upset? Why do I still miss my sisters, and feel guilty for losing them, even if I know they’re not real? Why does Kaede feel guilty about killing me, when I’m fine, and she wasn’t even really my killer?”

Tsumugi frowns. “Well… I guess it’s real to you.”

Rantaro smiles, and it’s bittersweet. “Yeah. It is, Tsumugi. And… you’re real too. I think… I think we should be able to convince them to give us our memories of season fifty two back. And… once we’ve got that… we can move forward from there, yeah? Together.”

Tsumugi stares at him for a moment. For Rantaro to extend this offer… it’s strange. On one level, a level she’s made an effort to ignore, she doesn’t feel like she deserves it. On another, she still feels an aversion to bonding with someone whose actions she can’t predict. And on another, she’s realizing that maybe she’s been just as wronged by Team Danganronpa as the rest of the cast has. And knowing that… knowing that Team Danganronpa isn’t on her side, and neither is the rest of the cast… she could really use an ally.

“Okay,” She says simply.

Rantaro grins, a real one this time, not the superficial one he frequently hides behind. He reaches out a hand, and after a moment, Tsumugi shakes it.

Rantaro stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “Well. I’m glad I talked myself into coming over here, then. Guess now that we’ve figured out my real talent, we’ll get started on figuring out your missing backstory.”

Tsumugi smiles. “I guess so.”

“Good talk, then,” He grins, backing toward the door. Rantaro gives her one final wave, before leaving her room. The door shuts behind him with a click.

Tsumugi is left alone with her thoughts. They swirl around, and there’s a lot more than before, but somehow, she thinks she’s going to figure everything out. She won’t give up until she has answers. That’s a promise.

Huh. That was surprisingly heroic, coming from plain old her.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! thanks so much for reading :)


End file.
